Mother's Day
by theimpalaismybaby
Summary: Sam wants to visit Mary's grave for Mother's Day, but Dean won't let the painful memories start.


_Author's Comment: Warning! Lots of angst and fond memories. As usual, I do not own Superatural in any way, or any of it's characters._

"Sammy. No, it's out of the question," Anger, caustic and searing made its mark across the cheap hotel room they'd stopped at along the road, so they could rest. Now the issue was arising again and no matter what he did, he could never push it down. Sam was too persistent. He was a Winchester after all. God knows they're stubborn as hell.

Sighing deeply, Sam turned to Dean, his bottom lip jutting out, his own face angry as his body language read he wouldn't give this up so easily to Dean. Not now. Not while he was so close. He could almost taste the victory on his tongue. Reaching out across from his bed to where Dean's knee rested, his elbows perched on them. "Dean. This isn't for me, hell, not even for dad…." He trailed off and licked his lips, a lump rising in his throat as visions of blonde hair and beautiful eyes permeated his vision. "It's for mom, Dean."

The plea was alive and crying in Sammy's words and Dean felt a pull on his heart, the wrenching pain of his mother and the pain of the truth that shone in those words. It was for mom… But he couldn't. It'd be too hard to- Swallowing the lump in his throat; Dean knew Sam was watching him. Averting his eyes and coughing into his hand, he sprung up from the bed and paced, away from Sam and his persuasion skills.

He was already in enough pain. Mother's Day; it was a term that didn't apply to him. Not having a mother to take care of him, or smother him with love, left him… Angry, bitter, harsh to reality which struck back at him often enough to leave an impression deep into his skin that burned.

His breaths shallow and his heart on his sleeve, he looked over abruptly as Sam slid from the bed, walking past him to the fridge and slipping two beers out. Standing behind Dean, Sam frowned and looked at the back of his head, leaning in to the shorter brother to press a gentle kiss to his neck, pressing the cold beer into his waiting hand.

Once the beer had left his hand, to immediately be sucked down by the down-hearted Dean, Sam used his free hands to run down his back, to the base of his neck, feeling the tension. Not speaking another word, he knew he won already, so he let the answer and the matter hang in the air as he delivered kisses alone the base of his neck.

"Sammy-" Dean turned around and weathered his hands together, beer in hand.

"Yeah?"

"…You know I love you, right?" He peaked out under his lashes up at Sam's beautiful irises.

Sam's face broke out into a smile as he looked down at Dean, cradling the protective brother to his chest in a massive bear hug.

"Thank you Dean," the tall gangly man mumbled into the other's hair, smiling happily to hear the news. Giving Dean one last squeeze, he let him go and let out a sigh as he toasted to him. "To dad, who wishes he was here."

Dean was quiet for a little bit, before grimacing and nodding his head, raising his beer and clinking with the amber liquid in Sam's glass. "To dad," he mumbled quietly. Thoughts of John Winchester filled his head, his desperation's, his anger, his sorrow and finally, his death. Taking a long drag of his beer, Dean collapsed back onto the bed, his eyes faraway as Sam sat down across from him, letting Dean think what he needed to think.

Finally, Dean pulled the last bit of swishing amber liquid down his throat, throwing the bottle into the trash. "All right. We're picking up Bobby on the way?" he inquired as he picked his keys from his pocket and looked back at Sam who was caught dead, staring at the way he walked.

Flushing, Sammy nodded his head mutely as he threw his empty bottle away also. Following Dean out, Sam closed the door, locking it with the room key and sliding in next to Dean to fiddle with the radio, only to be shot with a glare.

"Driver picks the music." Dean reminded with a half grin, as much as he could manage.

XX

Rolling Bobby over the dirt and broken leaves, Sam noticed that the weather was almost perfect. Dark, gloomy, looking as if it was going to rain. Feeling the breeze whip past, he looked over to Dean, who was beside them, but taking a close route. He never understood why Dean hated to go to Mary's grave. He'd been in cemeteries a million times in his life, even dug in to find bodies. What was so horrid about visiting their mother?

Sucking in a breath and shoving his hands into his pockets from the harsh win, Dean squared his shoulders as Sam wheeled Bobby to the marker, where her body didn't actually lie, but just in memory for her. Stepping back, far away enough from the marker, Dean felt a little more at ease. Shoulder's still tense, visions went through his mind.

"Happy Mother's Day, Mary. You've raised the two best boys on the planet," Bobby leaned down to set a plethora of lilies onto the marker as he sniffed. "And I bet you and John are damn proud of them wherever you are…" Taking off his hat, he rubbed his face, his nose red and his eyes stinging. Wheeling himself back to the car, he left the boys to cope alone.

Sam briefly glanced back over at Dean, before stepping forward, tears in his own eyes as his lip crinkled. Sniffing deeply, he squatted down, reading the head marker as he'd done so many times before. Swallowing the cry stuck in his throat, he let out a hurt laugh. "Mom, I love you… I miss you. There's not a night I don't…" choking back a sob, Sam continued on, "D-don't think of you. Happy Mother's day…."

Sobbing loudly, Sam leaned forward, crying into his knees about the loss of the only mother he had, before he even knew her. It just… tore him apart. It killed him on the inside. His hair covered his face as winds whipped by. Leaves crunched and suddenly Dean was there, next to him, plopping himself down in front of her stone. Wrapping an arm around Sam's shoulders, he kissed his forehead, looking like he was going to choke.

Laughing slightly, he started to ramble,"You must be cursing our names, eh? For getting in so much trouble, selling our souls, starting the apocalypse and setting God's angels against us, but I know that you're proud. We miss you more than you know. We wish you happiness wherever you are… I love you…"

A few tears trickled down his solemn face as Sam clutched closer to him, sobbing into his shoulder. Reaching into his pocket, Dean pulled out a card he never gave her for Mother's Day, setting it under the flowers. "Bye mom…" he whispered and ushered Sam to his feet.

Holding the tall crying boy, Dean looked back, blinking. In the fog and haze, he swore he saw Mary standing there, smiling at them. Shaking his head, he looked back to swirling for and sniffed, letting it go and kissing Sam softly, "Let's go."


End file.
